the guy on my right is new
and he says he feels kinda sad and his hands are cold
and he refuses the dice
so I pick 'em up myself.
I let 'em roll.

and the little white spots gleam like stars
and the guy on my right gets a look at the stickman
and he begins to sense where it is that we are
and the table's hot
but so am I
and I grab the bones and I let 'em fly.
so come 2 come 3 come 4 come 5 come 6 come 7 come 9
it doesn't matter to me now
'cause I've got all kinds of time.

Composição: The Mountain Goats